Fate Averted
by Lanerz-XD
Summary: OC Fiction. Shadean is an aspiring Paladin finding herself at odds with her order. This is the chronicle of her story, from her discoveries in the Scarlet Monestary to her eventual arrival in Stormwind in time for the Scourge Invasion.
1. Chapter 1

The fifteen year old coughed up blood, pounding her fist into the hardened ground of the training area, eyes glued to the ichor dripping out of her nose and mouth as it pooled on the ground. The crunch of soil beneath heavy plate brought her senses around again, and she looked up to catch the solid instep of the boot solidly in the face. The force of the blow knocked her over onto her side, groaning in pain and exhaustion.

"Are you beaten?" A chiding voice sounded above her, the pain and blood blurring her vision. She looked up at the shadowed figure standing over her body, an axe clutched in its hands,and she whimpered, closing her eyes and resting her head against the ground. A chuckle escaped her tormentor's lips and Shadean shuddered as she heard the sounds of her tutor kneeling next to her.

"You're weak, child. Barely fit to hold a blade and you still want to fight for us?" The Crusader snorted and held out a hand, grabbing the squire sharply by the collar of her bloodstained tabard, pulling the teenager to her feet. Shadean's feet barely held her solidly, she swayed with the tiniest of breezes, but it seemed her tutor was more contented with berating her than helping her stand.

"The Scourge are not enemies for children to fight, Dresner," the Crusader continued, waving gauntleted hands toward the darkened sky. "They do not give quarter, so why should I even give you the chance to stand again?"

Shadean knew enough not to reply, it would cost her a beating and maybe a lashing if she decided to speak. Her body was lined with enough scars provided by her own compatriots for a lifetime. Instead, she looked toward the ground, brown eyes focusing on a maggot writhing out of the ground. She only half listened to her mentor as the little creature squirmed on the training area floor.

_They must have brought another one of those things in,_ she thought, staring at the squirming insect. Her mentor's boot solidly crushed it into the dust and grabbed Shadean's chin sharply. The young paladin instinctively winced and took a half step back as her mentor glared at her and then let go.

"Clean yourself up, and come back to me, I have a small job for you," He said. She nodded and bowed as he strode toward the Cathedral. Watching him go for a while, she turned and limped back toward the armory. It served as baracks for the trainees, and she earned the laughs of a few other crusaders as she hobbled through the sacred halls. Finally finding a basin to wash her wounds in, she cleansed her skin with a rag, daubing at her split lip and casually reaching into her mouth to check for loose teeth. She had lost a few training before, nothing a few healing spells and time couldn't cure, but it was still a menace.

"Got your arse kicked, didn't you Dean?" Came a arrogant voice from another part of the room. Shadean sighed and straightened up, looking over at the man who had stepped into the room. He was a few years older than her, and was quite frankly the bully of the group. She had been the brunt of his aggression since she was brought to the Cathedral.

"It's not like I've ever seen you doing anything but kissing up to him," she retorted, drying her hands on another nearby rag. She carefully emptied the basin as the bully came up behind her, grabbing at her shoulder. "Get out of her, Dirk. I'm busy, I don't have the time to teach you a lesson in manners today." She grumbled and pushed him out of her way.

Despite having beaten him soundly several times, Dirk seemed determined to make a fool of the smaller squire. Shadean was perfectly contented to ignore him at first, until she watched him bully some of the other, younger, trainees. Then she found her fist striking his face and her hands at his throat before she knew what was happening, only stopping when the Crusaders came in to drag her off him. It was this offense, she thought, that caused Dirk's determined aggression toward her, and only her.

"Go on then," he said, waving his arms like a bird. "Get out of here, chicken." A few nearby trainees laughed slightly, but Shadean, trying her hardest to ignore them, stuck her nose in the air and walked down the hall again. Knocking solidly on the door of her mentor's room, she stepped inside and bowed. Immediately she found a scroll being shoved into her hands and straightened up, looking at the parchement in her hand.

"Take this to Vishas," he commanded and pushed her back out the door roughly. She stumbled on the rough masonry and fell backwards, hitting her head hard on the stone. Cursing under her breath, she staggered to her feet and limped off toward the Graveyard. Vishas was a cruel man, and even some of the other crusaders kept away from him. He liked to brand people when they got on his bad side, and tended to do worse if they kept there. It was to him that the undead prisoners were taken and experimented on.

The entrance to the Interrogator's chambers were unpleasant as ever, the smell of burnt flesh unmistakable in the air. The other torturers glared darkly at the trainee from below her hood as she shakily moved inside, the parchment clutched in her hand. She stilled her nerves and walked over to where Vishas was hunched over the body of an undead, speaking in his high, disturbing voice as he pressed his redhot blade to the creature's flesh. He screamed and writhed against his restraints, earning a disturbing little chuckle from his torturer.

"Interrogator," Shadean started, only to be interrupted as he brandished his redhot little dagger at her. His grin spread wider as he grabbed the scroll from the terrified young paladin, stabbing the point of his blade into the wood of the rack and he walked off reading it. Shadean stood, awkwardly next to the prone undead, trying to block out the screams and maddening stench of the place. She had always thought that this was not the place of the Crusade, that this was something that spoke against the nature of her order.

"Child," a voice startled the girl out of her thoughts and she stared wildly at the undead, heaving on the rack. "Come here, girl." He commanded again, his voice gaining a little strength. She hesitantly moved forward, her fist clenched at her side.

"You're not like them," he said simply, gesturing with his rotted chin toward the interrogators gathered around another of his brethren. "Just as I am not like the mindless things that haunt the graveyard nearby." He grinned, his mouth yellowed and half rotten out.

"You're Scourge," Shadean said cautiously. "Or aren't you?"

"Not Scourge, not anymore. We're the Forsaken...you've been fighting us, not the Lich King. We're supposed to be fighting the same menace, but you crusaders don't see us any differently than the mindless slaves," He laughed a little and shook his head, wincing slightly as the motion disturbed the injuries on his rancid flesh.

"You're not stupid, nor are you a slave to their will...listen to me: your order is corrupted. We have proof," He grumbled. "Not that it'll do me a damn bit of good." Vishas laughed nearby, his voice disturbingly high and cruel. Shadean jumped and looked hestiantly over her shoulder.

"Corrupted? But..." she lowered her head and thought about how the Crusade had been changing, how she had joined just a year ago, but already it was becoming something frighteningly different.

"I do not want to die by that rat's hands, girl," The Forsaken prisoner said, breaking Shadean's concentration. She looked at him and shook her head quickly. "I know you can't free me, child. You'd end up on one of these racks dying slowly yourself. I need you...to kill me."

"I cannot...you...you aren't my enemy, are you? I can't just...murder you!" She whispered frantically, leaning in. The Forsaken chuckled and with a horrible grunt of effort, tore his hand out of the shackle, grabbing Shadean's shoulder with his rotten, and now bloody, hand.

"It's mercy, girl, you paladins still believe in that, right?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Things may have changed since I was alive, but-" He paused and looked around the frightened young woman. He cursed in the low, gutteral slang of the Undercity and shook the girl. "I beg you, do it now. Quickly!"

Shadean grasped the hilt of the still glowing dagger, feeling the metal burn into her hand as she raised it. Whispering a prayer, she plunged it deep into the Forsaken's chest. He stiffened, gasped and went still, blackish ichor spilling from the wound. His grotesque hand slipped from the squire's shoulder and she stepped back, her palm burned by the magical blade.

"What did you do!?" Vishas screamed at her, spinning her around and pushing her up against one of the many torturous instruments. She winced and closed her eyes tightly, shaking visibly in her fear. This was it, she thought, this is how I'm going to die.

"He...was escaping, Interrogator. She defended herself," one of the torturers took the loose, limp hand of the forsaken and shook it vigorously in front of Vishas. He smiled, a disturbing grin and patted the paladin on the head with one calused palm.

"Good girl then, run along. Tell Herrod he's on," Vishas giggled and went back to his work, pulling his dagger out of the dead Forsaken's chest and cleaning it on an apron. Shadean shuddered and slid down the empty rack to grasp her knees to her chest and bury her face against them. One thought was on her mind as she listened to the screams and moans of the Forsaken held in the chamber: Escape.


	2. Chapter 2

Shadean's opportunity for escape came late in the night, when the sounds of battle raged outside the cathedral's no longer sacred halls. Her fellow crusaders were scrambling, desperate to keep up with the vicious assault, but clearly the heroes attacking were impressively coordinated. She watched from the shadows, carefully trying to slip past without their notice, watched them fell three of her former comrades without missing a beat. She gulped and pressed on, hoping to make it to the exit before someone caught wind of her.

Fortunately, everyone seemed too upset to notice one lone trainee running for her life. She reached the stables with ease, and found one of the horses, anxiously stomping his hooves as the smell of fire reached his nosrils. Calming the beast with a handful of oats and soothing words, the young paladin scrambled up onto it's back.

"We need to go," she said as a command, more to herself than the beast. Gently nudging the horse forward, she nearly fell out of the saddle as it reared and rushed out of the stables. Groaning, she wrapped her arms around it's neck, holding on for dear life as the beast charged out, past the other crusaders, past the heroes assaulting the cathedral. She closed her eyes and hoped the horse wouldn't try to throw her off as it ran. She had never been good with animals, and this horse seemed to have an idea of his own.

It was a little under fifteen minutes after she had fled that the horse finally decided to stop, and Shadean rather eagerly got out of the saddle. Again rewarding her mount with oats out of her bag, she hope he would stay near enough and at least get used to her. Looking around, she tried to get her bearings. They weren't in Tirisfal anymore, she could see the looming stone of the Graymane wall in the distance.

"Stillpine? Well you certainly know your way around, don't you boy?" She said to the horse and he whineyed loudly and shook his mane as she gently stroked his fur. She sat down and pulled some stale bread out of her bag, gnawing on it a bit before giving it up as a bad job. Laying back on the grass, she stared upwards at the still ominous sky. She wondered how long it had been since she had seen the sky as it was supposed to look. It had been a while, she decided and then sat up. She heard the snap of a twig and looked around, grabbing her training sword and unsheathing it.

"It's unwise to sit out here long," came a soft, high-piched voice. Shadean looked around wildly and spotted the speaker. Letting out a sigh of relief, she sheathed her sword and nodded. It was a gnome, a mage by the looks of her, and wearing the colors of the Kirin Tor. The paladin smiled and held out her hand to the gnome, who took it suspiciously. Shadean paused when she withdrew her hand, feeling somewhat offended, before realizing what made the gnome so suspicious: she wore the tabard of the scarlet crusdade.

"We don't see many crusaders this far out of Tirisfal," the gnome mentioned casually, pointing at the red flame crest on Shadean's chest. The garment was dirty, faded and splattered with blood, but it was unmistakable. The teenager grabbed the cloth and looked down at it, unable to take it off for now. Once it meant something, but now, she wasn't so sure she wanted to remember what she had just run from.

"I'm...not with the crusade anymore," she admitted, looking down at the grass as she crouched to be at eye level with the gnome. "They've...changed. I used to think they were something to believe in, but something's gone horribly wrong since I joined."

"I have heard rumors of demonic corruption," the gnome said, patting the paladin on the knee gently. "It's good that you at least recognize it, and had the strength to flee before you, too, were corrupted."

Shadean nodded her head and straightened up. "You don't know of any place I can sleep for the night. Like you said, this isn't a safe place to be," she gestured at the forest around them, which sifted the shadows into horrible monstrosities. The gnome nodded her head and began walking down the road. Shadean grasped the horse's bridle and led him after the gnome.

"If you continue along this road, you'll reach Hillsbrad. Keep on the road, and when it forks South, follow it. That'll take you to Southshore," the gnome said with a smile and several gestures indicating which way she should turn. Shadean nodded her head and slipped back onto the saddle of the horse. "But be careful, the Horde have a settlement near there too, they like to cause chaos for Southshore."

"I'll keep an eye out for them," Shadean said with a nod. "Thank you." The thanks were hastily added as she nudged the horse forward, this time he did not sprint off so quickly. Instead, he steadily picked up the pace, letting Shadean urge him onward until he reached full gallop. The trees rushed past, and Shadean heard an unholy howl out of the brush. She had been told that Worgen had been spotted in the forests, but had never believe the rumors. Now, in the dead of the night, she was being pursued by something, though the darkness made it a little more difficult to see what that beast was.

Only when a ray of moonlight hit the path did she see the creature behind her. It was a huge, black worgen, fur bristling and maw coated in foam. She closed her eyes and urged the horse faster, even as she heard the growling of the beast behind her. It's claws raked across the horse's flank, and it reared, knocking his rider off and galloping wildly into the night. Shadean hit the ground with a painful thud, the wind knocked out of her lungs, stunning her momentarily. The worgen leapt at her, clawing at her face and torso as she grabbed it by the muzzle and tried to push it off her.

One fist struck it in the eye and it reared back, howling, rolling away from the bleeding paladin. Shadean scrambled desperately to her feet, drawing the cold steel out of the scabard on her hip and brandishing it at the beast. Once the Worgen recovered, it prowled back toward her, claws digging into the ground as it hunched, ready to strike. It leaped at Shadean, only to be parried by a swift strike from the blade. Growling low, it slashed at her mostly unprotected legs, catching her right thigh with it's claw.

Crying out, Shadean collapsed onto one knee, the tip of her sword buried deep in the soil, effectively disarming the paladin. She brought her offhand up to block the incoming blow as the worgen lunged again. Even as her eyes closed involuntarily, she was thrown back by a sudden ray of light. The beast errupted in holy fire, falling to the ground midway through a leap, shrieking and howling in pain. Another blinding blast of Light and it gave out a single high pitched howl before falling still. The paladin fell back slightly, her grip slipping from the hilt of her sword. She looked at her weak leather armor, pressing her hand to the vicious scratches in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. She looked around for her savior, seeing a figure in red rushing toward her as her vision faded.

The brush of something cool and soft against her forehead brought her out of the fatigued sleep. Droplets of cool water rushed down her forehead; someone had placed a cool, wet rag onto her forehead. She groaned and tried to sit up, only to find a forceful hand pressing her back onto soft cotton. Her vision was still blurred, either by water or by the loss of blood.

"Stay still, human," came a grunt, low and gutteral. She recognized the tone well enough: it was an orc. Many of the orcs that once lived in the Internment Camps of Lordaeron knew common well enough to carry on a conversation. Shadean again tried to sit up, only to have a softer hand, this time, press her back down on the sheets. A soothing hand pressed against her collarbone, warmed by some magical force and she felt life run through her veins again. Vision clearing, she looked up to see the delicate features that were unmistakably high elven. Sharp, upward angled ears, high cheekbones...and green, glowing eyes.

Not a High Elf, a Blood Elf, traitor to the Alliance in the Third War. Behind her, the hulking form of the orc stood, curiously watching the much smaller paladin. He spoke low in his own language, the sin'dorei responding in kind, the low, gutteral tones seeming strange coming out of a creature so delicate. Shadean frowned and looked around, trying to figure out where she was. A cheery cooking fire was a few feet to her left, a makeshift shelter made of a few sturdy pieces of wood and a couple cloaks stretched between them stood nearby.

"You are all right, yes?" The elf questioned, gently guiding Shadean's chin back to look her in the eyes. Shadean sighed and sat up, nodding her head. A smile touched the elf's lips and she gently cupped the girl's cheek in her hands, looking over her shoulder at the orc and speaking again in that same, strange language. He laughed and shook his head, walking over to the two of them. Shadean involuntarily drew back as the huge orc came near, and he sighed, attempting to make himself look a little less fearsome by smiling; the effect only made him look bizarre, the wide toothy grin revealing his viciously sharp incisors and yellowing maw.

"You're going to scare her more, Kirigg," the elf purred in Common, shaking her head as she turned back toward the human. "We're not going to hurt you, if we had that in mind, we'd have let the worgen feast on your entrails." She quirked an eyebrow darkly, as if thinking for a moment about the concept. Shadean sighed and looked down at her body: both her tabard and most of her armor were gone, leaving her only in her leather pants, boots and the heavy wool dressing covering her clawed form. Pink tinged her cheeks as she thought about these two strangers having obviously seen her mostly nude.

"Just a kid, what are you doing running around with wolves?" Kirigg asked slowly, carefully enunciating his words. He crouched down and poked her in the stomach with one stubby finger. "You barely have any muscle at all, you would not have made much of a snack for the worgen." The elf batted away his finger and frowned before reaching into her pack, handing Shadean a smoked haunch of meat. The little paladin was about to ask what the meat was from, looked at the orc and thought better of it. As long as it was edible, knowing what it was could only make the process of eating it worse.

"He is quite right, what is a lone teenager doing wandering around Silverpine at night?" The Elf said, holding out her hand. "I am Mis'rea," she said as Shadean took her hand uncertainly. "And I have to say, you're far more pleasant than most Scarlet Crusaders I've run into. Most of them have a kill on sight order for anyone not wearing their colors."

"We had a bet that you'd try to strangle us as soon as you woke, I owe Mis three gold," Kirigg laughed, holding out three fingers to indicate his point. Mis'rea sighed and shook her head, looking over at the orc. "I pay you later," he said hastily, grinning again at the elf.

"Regardless, I take it you have a reason to be so far south of your little outpost," the elf said, and Shadean gulped. Here it was, now they were going to interrogate her, torture her for information. She knew she should have tried to run for it as soon as she had woken up. She shifted her position sightly, fist clenching into the dirt. Mis'rea's ears perked and she looked down at the girl's fist, chuckling.

"I'm not going to kill you, torture you or otherwise coerce information out of you. You're a child, and we're not as much monsters as that," she calmed the paladin. "I just want to know your name, and why you're out here," the elf's eyes glittered. "After all, you have our names, and it's only fair."

"Shadean Dresner," Shadean said appolgetically, rubbing the back of her head. "Sorry, it's just...you're with the Horde."

"We are Horde. Does not mean we kill defenseless children," Kirigg retorted, frowning slightly. "We are not beasts, not like the worgen, not even like the Scarlet Crusade." He pointed over to a pile of tattered armor and clothes, where her tabard sat, still bloodstained by largely intact. "They are monsters, they torture and murder."

"I know, I-I am not with the Crusade anymore," Shadean said, feeling like she had repeated this far too many times for her own comfort, having even had to say it to herself a few times before her departure from the Monestary. "They've been corrupted...I couldn't stay in a place where they tortured the innocent. I...I saw horrible things there." She shuddered and wrapped her own hands about her body, frowning slightly.

"So you fled? And found yourself running from Worgen, probably in the same day too."

"How long was I out of it, anyway?" Shadean asked curiously, looking up at the night sky. She was certain it was just as dark when she had been attacked, so her unconsciousness could have either been quite a short event or she could have been out for days.

"Just about a day, Kirigg spotted you. So I blasted the worgen and he carried you here," she said, leaning over to stir the fire a bit, pulling the hotter embers to the surface. Kirigg grunted and leaned over, pulling some meat out of his own bag and jabbing it onto the point of his blade, carefully propping it over the fire.

"Thank you...where are we anyway?" Shadean said, picking at the meat the elf had given her again. She ate it quietly, still somewhat curious as to what it was, but feeling so hungry it didn't matter anyway.

"East of the town of Southshore. Someone was leading a raid on Tarren Mill, so Kirigg and I decided to stick around here. Where they don't expect us to be." She added, looking off toward the West, where the scent of fire and destruction was wafting slowly in their direction. "And it seems the Horde took the fight back to Southshore...will they ever learn that all we've been doing here is retaliating for attacks?" Kirigg smirked and shook his head, saying something in orcish.

"Southshore, that's...where I was supposed to go.." Shadean said, looking off to the West and beginning to stand. The elf grabbed her wrist and tugged the paladin back down, shaking her head.

"You are better off heading into the Arathi Highlands and making your way to Ironforge from there." The Orc suggested, grunting as he shifted positions. "Less likely to end up dead that way. Southshore is not safe for anyone. Not even the Horde who attack it now." He flicked a piece of bone out of his teeth and sucked on them for a moment. "I battle as much as the next orc, but I am not so stupid to think that won't get us in trouble."

"We're perfectly content to leave well enough alone, right Kirigg. No sense in starting a fight when you don't need to. That's just a fast route to a shallow grave," Mis'rea nodded her head to end the conversation. Reaching into her bag again, she pulled out a ragged leather jerkin, handing it to Shadean. The Paladin put the armor on, wincing slightly as it brushed a little to hard against one of her bandaged wounds.

"You're going to have to follow the road east, toward the wall you can kind of see in the distance," She said and helped the paladin to her feet. "But you should probably go before the stragglers from Southshore come this way. Sometimes they take shelter in the Dwarven Fortress along the southern part of the wall, and if they saw you with us, you'd likely be killed too."

"Right..." Shadean said, wishing she had her horse still. It had either been run down by the worgen or had run off into Hillsbrad somewhere. She sighed and nodded to the elf and orc, bowing at the waist. "Thank you, for your help."

"Just remember us when you see some poor little member of the Horde fighting off a mob of monsters," Kirigg said with a chuckle. Shadean grinned and grabbed her torn tabard from the pile of garbage.

"I need this to remind me of what I'm supposed to be, and what can happen if I let corruption in..." She said, more to herself than the other two. The elf and orc watched her for a bit as she ran off into the night, turning back toward the fire.

"I give her a day before she realizes she doesn't have a sword," The elf laughed, nodding over to the tarnished blade by the pile of discarded, destroyed armor. The orc laughed and brought his coin pouch out, shaking it in front of the elf's face.

"Want to make it a bet?"


	3. Chapter 3

AN- I had trouble with this one, sorry it's so contrived.

As far as situations were, Shadean mused, things could have been a lot better. Her fists were raw and bloodied as she sat on a stone, awaiting the dwarf who had guided her, laughing, toward the ruins of the old Arathi capital. The bearded man came out from behind the stone, still chuckling as he saw the human paladin experimentally flexing her fingers.

"Don' do that, lassie, ye'll open the wounds again," he chided, grabbing her hand and carefully wrapping it in the mageweave. "Ye're lucky Ah'm around, these blokes ain't exactly real friendly most of the time." He glared over his shoulder at the guard and then sighed once he had completed his work. "Not that I blame 'em they've got enough goin' on 'ere."

"I saw some ogres on our way in..." Shadean said with a leery look around. The undead were one thing, she could handle them, they were mostly the same size and usually brainless enough to just attack in suicide runs. Ogres, though, were a different story. Though not terribly clever, she had always heard that they were brutal warriors, and she wasn't particularly keen on finding herself unarmed against one of those brutes. Not to mention the concept that Ogres would eat just about anything, including each other.

"Aye, ogres, but they're not the worst bit," The dwarf said darkly, pointing over to another part of the ruins. "There's a group of brigands callin' themselves the 'Syndicate' that's been causin' troubles fer this lot."

"Anything I can help with?" The teenager asked, standing and examining the bandages on her hands. They were well made, though probably more than the wounds warranted, the extra care was appreciated. The dwarf looked at Shadean for a moment and laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Help? Ye? Lass, ye scratched up yer hands runnin' from the beasts here!" He guffawed again, and Shadean glared at him. "Nah, ye'd best be gettin' yerself south, head off to Stormwind and get yerself some trainin'."

"I've had training," Shadean protested, trying to look intimdating. It was difficult in borrowed armor with no weapon, however, and she slumped back onto the stone, sighing. The dwarf stopped laughing, likely out of pity and patted Shadean on the shoulder.

"Whether ye've had training or not, yer not experienced enough ta take out a bleedin' kobold out here." He pulled something out of his pack. It was a dull sword, but it was solid enough and could be sharpened into a workable weapon. He thwacked the flat of the blade against his palm and nodded. "Aye, this'll do ye until someone gets a better one crafted for ye. I know one of yer kind who works in Ironforge likes to make fine weapons fer youngsters like yew."

"Thanks," Shadean said greatfully, taking the hilt of the sword in her hand. It was heavier than she expected it to be and she listed slightly as she tried to stand with it. The dwarf straightened her up again and showed her quickly how to grip the hilt properly.

"Whatever trainin' ye've had, they ain't been trainin ye right! Ye are supposed tah be usin' one o' these with your skills. Hit hard, not fast. That's the key." He commanded as he watched the paladin take a few experimental swings with the blade. She was still teetering slightly with each slash, but she eventually got the hang of it. Assured that at least the paladin could defend herself properly from the beasts in the Wetlands and beyond, he guided her toward the exit.

"Take care of yourself, lass." He said as she went out on her own, traveling steadily South. With the blade strapped to her shoulders, she found the going a little rough, but the path was free of beasts and evil creatures.

After about twenty minutes, she found herself stumbling upon a caravan of what appeared to be circus preformers. There were goblins, trolls, humans and even undead amongst their ranks. A gnoll, wearing rags and feathers spotted her and barked at his compatriots, and soon a goblin trotted out and held out a green hand to her. Shadean took it warily, already searching for signs of some insane plot or contract he would quickly have her sign. She knew enough about goblins to recognize them as horrible opportunists: they'd rope anyone and everyone into their plots if they could.

"Welcome to the Darkmoon Faire!" He croaked, chuckling as he led Shadean into their camp. The various people in the caravan waved, or merely watched her, curious as to why someone had brought some human girl into their midst. "We're a traveling troupe of entertainers, catering to all in Azeroth who are willing to put aside their differences in exchange for a week long festival of drinking and sorts of merriment."

Shadean was quickly settled down by a fire and given a mug of dark colored brew, the foam looking solid as stone above the brownish liquor. She took a quick drink after being goaded a few times by a rather large Tauren bull, only to find herself sputtering and doubled over from the powerful alcohol. He laughed, pointing and clapping one three fingered hand against his knee, speaking in deep tones Shadean didn't regonize before taking the mug away from her, downing it in one gulp. Wiping his mouth with the back of his fuzzy hand, he refilled the mug with something a lot less vile looking, speaking again in his strange language.

"He says light-weights should start out on something a little less potent," came a quiet voice from behind Shadean, causing the young woman to jerk her head in that direction. It was one of the Forsaken, a female with her face crossed by leather straps, more likely to hold her rotting jaw in place than for any asthetic reason. "That's for you." She added, pointing at the mug the Tauren had in his hands.

Shadean uncertainly took the mug from the tauren as she watched the undead woman sit on the log next to her. Sniffing at the drink in her hand, she sighed and took another sip, this one going down much smoother, but still causing her to sputter a bit as she pulled it away. The tauren made a gesture as if he was giving up and slumped back onto his log. The undead woman spoke in low, gutteral tones Shadean recognized as orcish. She knew a few words, here and there, of the language, though she made little sense of the conversation her two compatriots were having.

Shadean took her mug, thanking the two with a bow and wandered off toward another part of the camp. A blonde human woman was busy lifting weighted staves and a gnome was nearby tinkering with something, but Shadean wasn't entirely sure what it was. She found herself sitting by the edge of the faire's camp when a thundering series of footsteps came her way. Panicking, she turned dumping out the little left in her mug, drawing the dulled blade and finding herself face to face with an ogre of magnificent stature.

"Why you stick poker at me?" He stated slowly, all the intellect of his race channeled into this one being. Rubbing at his tiny little head, he poked one finger on the end of Shadean's blade, carelessly pushing the weapon downward, knocking it out of Shadean's hand. "Burth just wanna know you is not gonna hurt Mister Silas with shiny poker." He prodded at the heavy weapon, picking it up with two fingers and shaking it vigorously. Cowering in fear, Shadean whimpered something about not wanting to be eaten as the brute played with her weapon.

"Easy there, Burth, you'll put your eye out and then I'll have a one-eyed, no-brained bodyguard. What use would that be?" Came a higher, more friendly voice from behind the massive brute. Shadean straightened out to look at the newcomer and found herself mostly face to face with a very well-dressed gnome. He bowed to her with a flourish of his cap and smiled, holding out a hand.

"That's just Burth," he said with a genteel drawl, smiling at the human. "Burth, give our guest back her sword." The ogre looked sheepish and gently handed Shadean back her blade, almost shoving it into her arms. She struggled with it for a moment and slung it back over her shoulder, taking the gnome's hand in hers greatfully. .

"I'm Silas Darkmoon, and this is my traveling troupe of misfits. I understand you've already gotten a brief introduction from our ticketmaster. He likes to pretend he's in charge," he stage-whispered to Shadean and she giggled. He gestured for Shadean to have a seat on a nearby stone and hopped up on his own perch.

"What's your name, girl?" He asked, taking off his hat and rubbing at his head a bit. Shadean smiled and bowed her head slightly.

"Forgive me, I'm Shadean Dresner. I'm traveling...to Stormwind...I think." She said uncertainly, frowning and biting at her lower lip. The gnome nodded his head and hopped off his rock, holding out his hand to her again.

"Well this is no place for a kid to be wandering about all alone. If you don't mind doing a little work for your keep, we'll take you along with us. We're headed to Elwynn anyway, so it's certainly not out of our way." The gnome said as Shadean took his hand. "I know there's always something to do around here, and you can help us get set up when we reach our destination."

"Fair enough, Mister Darkmoon," Shadean said, shaking the gnome's hand a little too firmly, sending the little man a little off balance. Still, he caught himself with an aire of grace and laughed at Shadean as she pulled back in embarassment.

"Right, since you've clearly got some muscle in that body of yours, you can help us pack up. And you can call me Silas. No point in having you call me "Mister" anything." He said and then promptly guided her over to where a stack of crates filled with a variety of things stood. She quickly found herself hefting the crates into nearby caravans. It was tiring work, but it was good for her, and after several hours of work, the troupe was off, heading south along undoubtedly perilous paths.


	4. Chapter 4

The Faire's journey into Elwynn was less daunting than she had anticipated, the caravans were well armed enough that few beasts dared assault, and those that had attacked were swiftly rebuffed by the guards. Shadean admittedly helped little in these situations, being urged to stay behind and heal the wounded through their struggles instead of charging into battle like she usually did.

Still, she continued her practice with the large blade the dwarf had given her, sparring with the Faire's strongwoman and slashing at the occasional practice dummy. By the time the stone of Redridge faded into the green, rolling hills and old oaks of Elwynn she had already mastered the use of the blade. She relished the idea of being able to test her skills against something more dangerous. She had heard of the bandits loose in the area, and of course, was always sitting on the edge of the wagon, just waiting for a band to charge at them.

When at last, the Faire's carts and wagons, loaded to the brim with marvelous spectacles and treasures of Azeroth, arrived at Goldshire, Shadean found herself surrounded with surprisingly happy people. A few young rogues were dueling in the path between the blacksmith's forge and the inn, another few watched eagerly as they parried each other's blades with expert precision. People of all shapes and sizes gathered in Goldshire, awaiting the Faire: gnomes with their wild haircolors, short, stout and often drunken dwarves, humans of all classes, and the occasional, mysterious Night Elf.

Shadean sat, rather tired, on a rickety fence watching the rogues battle nearby. Her fingers trailed along the hilt of her blade, strapped to her back with rough leather and twine. She longed to try out her skills, but she noted that these two rogues would easily overwhelm her limited abilities. Even with her unique abilities to protect herself from their blades, she recognized their talent was far greater than her own.

"You think it's pretty neat, huh? Watching them spar like that?" A gruff voice sounded from her left. It was a man wearing the colors of Stormwind, the blue and gold lion roaring on his crisp tabard. Shadean smiled at the guard and nodded her head, turning back to face the rogues, still at it though one of them had fallen to the ground not moments before. The guard chuckled and leaned against his own section of fencing.

"I take it from you gear that you're no rogue. But, if you want to learn to fight with that rusty thing you're carrying, I suggest you travel up to the Abbey. Just up the ways there." He pointed toward the fork in the road, to the one carrying off to the Northeast. She saw the slightest glimpse of white granite walls in that direction, and nodded her head to the guard. He winked, playfully, at her and put his helm back on, going back out on patrol.

Shadean made her way back into the area where the Faire's performers were currently setting up. Thanking them profusely for their help, she slung her pack over her narrow shoulders and started walking up the road through Goldshire. She caught the attention of a few mangy wolves on her journey, but they were easy enough to deal with, even for someone her size. Collecing their sharp teeth as a prize, or more likely, to simply sell to some willing vendor later on, she approached the fabled Northshire Abbey. It was in this place, she remembered hearing, that Medivh spent his years in a coma. She sighed and breathed in the air: it tasted like Lordaeron, before the plague swept through.

"Welcome, Paladin! Do you seek training?" Came another voice, this one booming and bold. The man quickly walked over to Shadean, taking her hand in a firm shake before stepping back to get a good look at her. She blushed, standing in front of this soldier in full plate wearing only rusted mail links and leather.

"Hm, and you look like you've had a bit of experience already, am I right?" He asked, surveying her one more time. She nodded her head slowly and he smiled at her through the slit in his helm. "Well all right then, let's get you integrated with the others. No need to have you running around killing wolves, let's have you start your training and then get you into some real work!"

The soldier grabbed Shadean roughly by the shoulder and lead her to a nearby grassy knoll where a few students were observing a sparring match between a warrior and a paladin, like her, looking to be a few years older than she was. Unlike Shadean, however, this paladin used a shield and a short sword. She glared at her opponent, who wore a thick helm covering her face, and heavy mail covering the rest of her form, but weilded a pike with precision that Shadean could only dream of.

Shadean watched, the soldier at her back bellowing at the crowd to listen for a moment. Shoving her forward, he introduced her as the 'recruit' and told the others to look after her. Shadean's cheeks burned as she looked from person to person, seeing no friends in the group, only mild curiousity or distain. The paladin with the shield watched her, dark hair falling into the girl's bright blue eyes, as if wondering why the girl had interrupted training. The red-head balked under her gaze and quickly averted her eyes to her leather boots, frowing at the amount of dust on them.

The paladin smiled after a moment and walked down the knoll to hold her hand out to Shadean, smiling politely. Shadean, cautious, took it lightly, only to wince as the paladin's grip crushed her unexpecting hand. She turned her grimace into an odd sort of smile and shook, taking her hand back with a whimper and flexing her fingers experimentally.

"What's your name, kid?" The paladin asked, brushing her hair behind her ear. Shadean quivered and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, well aware that in the group standing before her, only two seemed disinterested now. It looked to Shadean as if the other paladin was their ringleader, or perhaps their teacher, but she could never be certain of that.

"S-Shadean Dresner," she said, stammering as she looked around, her eyes catching on those of a young mage wearing a flame-red robe. The mage smiled slightly back at her and she caught her cheeks going a shade of deeper red, though this time not out of embarassment. Shadean's ears burned as she looked back at the warrior.

"Right Shadean," the paladin said, clapping her hard on the shoulder. "You're a paladin, too, right? From the looks of it not entirely?" The other paladin sheathed her blade and slung her shield over her shoulder. She curiously gripped Shadean by the shoulder and spun her slightly to look at the weapon she had strapped to her thin body.

"You fight with that?! Blimey! You probably wouldn't stand a chance against Angelos there, and she's trained as a protector!" The warrior laughed from the top of the knoll and pointed over at the other paladin, who rolled her eyes. Shadean frowned and pulled herself out from under Angelos's hands.

"I bet you I could beat your arse from now until sunset and not even break a sweat." Shadean glared at the warrior, who pretended to balk under her gaze before laughing out loud. Even the paladin chuckled a bit behind her, and walked away, leaning lazily against a nearby post,carefully watching the two. Shadean reached for her blade and drew it from the hapahazard harness, holding it loosely in one hand.

"You couldn't even hit me with that blade, kid," the warrior said, smirking at Shadean. "I bet you ten gold you won't even touch me with it. Twenty that I knock you on your ass before you can even try to knock me on mine." She leaned against a nearby post, earning admiring looks from many of the other students in the nearby crowd. Shadean growled low, her eyes narrowed as she stood up to the warrior, staring at her through the narrow slit in her helm.

"Fine, I take your bet." She gripped her weapon in two hands and smirked at the warrior. "I'm used to dealing with bullies like you, take your best shot." She stood her ground, legs bent and squared to her shoulders, ready for battle.

"Aluciena, try not to hurt her," Angelos called from her position on the grass, watching cautiously before whispering to a hooded priest sitting close to her. The woman chuckled and leaned back into Angelos's ear, whispering a response which caused Angelos to crack a smile.

"Aluciena, that's your name?" Shadean said as her opponent drew her weapon and held it at the ready. The warrior in the helm nodded and smirked toothily through the helm.

"And I'm going to make sure I hear you say it when I'm done with you. In a begging sort of tone." She sneered and Angelos, sitting on the grass still, clucked disapprovingly. The crowd watched with baited breath as the duel flag was raised, and Shadean steadied herself against the upcoming charge.

In an instant, Aluciena was on Shadean, striking her hard with the hilt of the pike, disorienting the human for a moment. As Shadean regained her composure, she saw Aluciena lift the sharp weapon, intending to bring the blade down into Shadean's mostly unprotected shoulder, disarming her. Instinctively, Shadean dropped to her knee, feeling the sharpened blade rip just slightly into her armor, but missing it's intended target.

With an angry grunt, Shadean lunged upward, her shoulder hitting Aluciena in the stomach, knocking her off balance. The warrior yelped as Shadean's weight toppled the two of them over, Shadean landing, partially winded, on top of Aluciena, her blade still clutched in one hand. The priest next to Angelos chuckled, though her stance was stiffened, obviously watching to see if either of them were actually injured. Shadean leapt back up to her feet with a triumphant smirk on her lips, leaving Aluciena to push herself hastily back onto her feet, an angry glare on her face behind the helm.

"Don't let your arrogance get the better of you, Alu. Little Shadean's no push-over, it seems." Angelos said sternly from her spot on the grass, one arm carefully resting on the priest's shoulder. Shadean paused, watching the two for a moment, curious, before turing her attention back toward the warrior.

"She's good, I'll give her that. But there's no way I'm going to lose to a human child!" Aluicena snorted and pulled off her helm. Shadean pulled back, shocked to see a Night Elf up close for the first time. Aluciena threw the helm down and regripped her pike, pointing it firmly at Shadean. "That was just practice, let's see how you do this time!"

Aluciena charged again, but this time Shadean was prepared. Leaping desperately out of the way, she left the warrior wide open for attack and brought her blade hard down into the pike. The wood splintered under the heavy blade, and the pike broke in two, just short of Aluciena's hands. The warrior gasped as Shadean conjured a hammer, striking the elf cleanly in the head, sending her reeling in pain.

Shadean drew her blade back for another strike, but suddenly found her sword arm clenched in a strong grip, preventing her from finishing the strike, Angelos was looking at her sternly as she held her arm. Aluciena dropped to her knees and grumbled, lowering her head in defeat. The priest smiled under her hood, her exposed features very thin, very beautiful, but sharing a particular trait Shadean recongized: the priest was a blood elf, most likely. Though why she was here, in the kingdom of Stormwind, she could not guess.

"All right, that's enough. Ran, can you help Alu out here a little bit, I think it's mostly wounded pride, and a damage weapon," Angelos said as Shadean lowered her stance, her cheeks flushed pink as she looked down at Aluciena. The night elf looked furious, but clearly knew she was beaten. The priest smiled and spoke softly to her, helping her up to her feet and gathering the splintered remains of the weapon, leading her back to the post to check her wounds.

"You fight a little more brashly than I would have expected," Angelos commented as the crowd dispersed, the new girl having proven herself, the spot was suffficently boring again. The only ones remaining were the priest"Where did you train?"

"I..um...well...Lordaeron." Shadean stammered, lowering her weapon to stick the tip of it into the soft earth. "I was the squire dwarf paladin until the undead overwhelmed our camp...and then I went to the Scarlet Monestary...to...to...train." Angelos frowned slightly as she looked over Shadean, before she smiled again.

"No matter, I can still train you on how to use that blade of yours with a little more finesse." She said and placed a hand gently on Shadean's shoulder. "Let me see that stance of yours again, there are a few things to improve."

Shadean nodded, suddenly feeling very foolish as she grasped her weapon in both hands, holding it as if she was ready to strike at an enemy. Angelos circled her, eyes traveling up and down the other teenager's form, as if surveying her for weaknesses. Frowning she shook her head, walking to just behind Shadean, but close enough to still be in her visual range.

"You're not holding it right, you're trying to use it like it's a shortsword." Angelos said kindly, placing one hand on Shadean's hip, the other on her shoulder to guide her back into a more appropriate stance. Shadean felt her ears burning as Angelos's hands carefully guided her into a more appropriate stance, half closing her own eyes and sighing. The priestess watched curiously, having helped Aluciena back to her feet, eyes glowing beneath her red hood.

"Well while you two are snuggling up there, it's about time for us to go get something to eat before the dwarves eat it all," Aluciena snorted indelicately, throwing a small dagger toward the two,embedding the blade into the grass by their feet. Angelos straightened and smiled, walking over to the two, gently leaning in to whisper softly into the elf's ear again.

"Come on, Red. Haven't got all night," Aluciena's expression softened slightly as she gestured toward Shadean. "Oh, and I don't owe you squat because you broke my pike. It'll take me a week to get this fixed properly." She prodded Shadean in the side and threw her arm over the shorter woman's shoulders.

"In case you were curious, Aluciena can't respect anyone who can't face her in combat. So, in other words, you're in," Ran said lightly looking over her shoulder at Shadean with a smile. Angelos smirked over her shoulder and the four walked toward the small vendor stand outside the abbey, where most of the trainees had gathered to buy food and trade their treasures for gold.


End file.
